


You, In the Morning Hours

by xobarriers



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23662870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xobarriers/pseuds/xobarriers
Summary: Even though nothing feels the way it used to, he knows that Gerard loves him. It’s just that he finds it hard to remember, sometimes; it’s always hard to remember what he can’t understand.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 17
Kudos: 85





	You, In the Morning Hours

It’s almost funny, the extent to which Frank feels like a child again every time he hears the floorboards of the summer home creak under his shoes. He’s been here every year since he was in diapers, after all; the house has grown up with him, weathering and wearing down with every summer that’s passed. The floors are still sand-strewn, and the plumbing still doesn’t work, and the cobwebs collecting in each dim corner seem to multiply no matter how many times they’re attacked with the stiff bristles of the ancient broom that’s kept in the hall closet. It’s more a home to him than anywhere else in Jersey has ever been. 

He knows this house like the back of his hand; knows the precise angle at which to turn the knobs on the gas stove in order to (poorly) cook dinner, knows just how to step to avoid the loudest creaks in the stairs, knows that the right side of the path down to the shore gets covered in debris whenever it rains. Things make sense here, in a way that they never have in the city. Everything is quiet, here- it cocoons him in a gentle wave of easy safety. He deals with the city in the winters. That’s all he can do. 

In the winters, Frank’s tiny cubicle holds him in and shreds him into a million pieces all at once. The mindless clacking of keyboards and incessant ringing of the office phones pound away at his head like he’s being battered with a sledgehammer. Every satisfied customer latches on and sucks away from his tenuous reserves of energy, leaving nothing but blank behind them. All of it just makes this first step into the vacation home feel all that much more like a release. Everything drains away, and he’s home.

The footsteps on the floor behind him send up another round of laments to the eaves. 

“It’s great to be back, isn’t it?”

Frank nods, stepping forward to brush his palm across the dust accumulating on the peeling laminate countertop. “Mmhmm. I missed it.”

An arm wraps around Frank’s hips, gently drawing him back. “We should tell your mom we made it safely.”

Frank tips his head back and to the side to meet Gerard’s gaze, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “You do that. I’ll clean up a bit, okay?”

Gerard sighs softly and leans in to press their mouths together. “Okay, Frankie. Take it easy.”

The all-too-familiar flood of guilt starts up again at Gerard’s reminder, and Frank averts his eyes. “Always do.”

Gerard squeezes his waist and pulls back. Frank misses him immediately.

Frank wets a rag and wipes down the counter, coughing a few times when the dust billows up. The laminate looks much better without the dust. He lets himself smile at the clean surface for a moment, then turns to retrieve the broom. Several bristles fall while he sweeps, but by the time he finishes the kitchen feels clean. 

Gerard wanders back into the room, pressing a hand to Frank’s shoulder. Frank loves that about him; loves the way he always wants to touch. It’s the most comforting sensation in the world.

“It looks nice in here, baby. How are you feeling? Are you up for a swim before dinner?”

Frank hesitates, leaning into Gerard’s grip. “It’s too late. I won’t be able to get dinner done on time if I swim.”

Gerard sighs and steps closer, brushing a kiss to his temple. “We’re on vacation, love. I’ll order in. You don’t need to cook.”

But he _does_ , Frank wants to argue. “It’s the least I can do.”

Gerard sets a hand on Frank’s cheek and lifts his face so their eyes meet. His gaze is solemn. “We aren’t here for you to keep working. Please-- don’t think that you need to, like, repay me. Or keep me happy. We can order takeout, baby. It’s not your job to cook for me.”

Frank averts his eyes. He has so many things he needs to say, so much he needs to explain, but he can’t speak. 

“Please, Frank?” Gerard asks quietly. He sounds just as sincere as ever. “You love to swim. Don’t give that up.”

He nods jerkily.

“Come on, love,” Gerard coaxes. “I unpacked our bags. You don’t need to worry about anything. Just come to the shore with me.”

“Okay,” Frank whispers finally, stepping away from him. “I-- um, sorry.”

He leaves a dejected-looking Gerard in the kitchen and closes the bedroom door behind himself, grabbing the trunks laid out on the king sized bed. He quickly tugs them on but makes no move to head back, instead smoothing his hand over the bedspread. 

Last year was different.

When they had rented this house for a week the previous year, Frank’s medication had still worked.

“Frank?”

Gerard cracks the door, knocking gently. “Baby, are you good?”

He avoids the question. “I’m ready.”

“Okay, love. I’ll be by the door.”

*****

Frank follows him down to the shore. The sand lining the path grates at the sides of his feet and burns against his soles. It doesn’t feel as thrilling as he remembers. 

“Baby, look at this!” Gerard’s voice is high and excited, and his hand is soft as it links with Frank’s and tugs him towards an abandoned, half crumbled sand castle. It still stands tall, but half the walls have been demolished. Frank gives him a slight smile.

“It’s pretty.”

“Isn’t it? We should build one while we’re here. Maybe tomorrow, if you’re up for it?”

If Gerard wanted to build a sand castle, Frank would make himself be up for it. “That sounds good.”

Gerard smiles at him and presses a kiss to the side of his head. Frank shivers. “C’mon, let’s swim. The water looks nice.”

Frank follows him, the sand beneath his feet smoothing over and hardening as they approach the foam. He can vaguely remember laughing and tugging Gerard along as the waves curled over his feet, but this year it just feels like water. He holds back a sigh and squeezes Gerard’s hand.

Gerard pauses in the shallows and pulls him close, pressing his face to Frank’s hair. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” he whispers, relaxing into Gerard’s arms. “I love you too, Gerard. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Gerard murmurs. “Just-- remember what Dr. Leonhardt said. You’re so loved. It’s not wrong to let yourself live in the moment.”

Frank nods and curls into him, his eyes stinging almost as much as the sand. He can feel Gerard’s smile against his skin. 

“And it’s a good moment, isn’t it?”

He nods again, wishing he could feel it. 

Gerard wades farther out into the surf, one arm still wrapped tightly around Frank’s waist. The water is warm as it laps against their legs. 

He turns his head to meet Gerard’s gaze, earnest and as beautiful as ever. He wishes he knew how to vocalize the way he feels right now, the way he really feels, muted as it is below layers of heavy static and numb weight. He settles for leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Gerard’s jaw and whispering, “I love you,” against his skin. 

Gerard slides his free hand up to cup the back of Frank’s neck. “I love you so much, baby. C’mon; want to go out a bit more?”

He nods and forces himself to take the lead, knowing it’ll make Gerard happy. He doesn’t stop walking forward till the waves are crashing against their chests, strong enough to propel them back towards the shore. One wave, a bit stronger than the others, splashes up into his face and startles him into laughing. 

Gerard squeezes his waist and holds him close, kissing the side of his head. “I love it here.”

Even though Frank feels the way he does, he really understands what Gerard means. “It feels like home, doesn’t it?”

Gerard grins at him, his eyes so full of light and love Frank can hardly breathe. “It does. Shit, if it wasn’t for our jobs and families I’d want to move here permanently.”

He sighs and leans against Gerard’s side, pressing his lips to the swell of his shoulder. “At least we get to come back every year.”

“Wish I could afford to take you here more often,” Gerard whispers, barely audible over the crashing waves. 

Frank nudges him. “Once a year is perfect.”

Gerard tilts Frank’s face up and kisses him, lips salty and warm. Frank wants to drown in them. “We can save up a bit for next year, yeah? It’ll be five years since you married me. That’s a great excuse to stay longer.”

He still gets the same soft thrill every time Gerard talks about the wedding. Even though the years are passing, he doubts the thrill will ever fully go away. “Five years is an excellent excuse,” he agrees. 

Gerard nods towards the sunset. “I always forget how fucking gorgeous it gets here, you know?”

Frank shivers as the first cooling breeze of the evening rolls over his back. “I really think this is the prettiest place in Jersey.”

They continue trading small talk for a few minutes; Frank slowly relaxing into the feeling of being home. It makes everything else easier. 

Eventually, his shivering gets too noticeable and Gerard guides him back to the beach. “Let’s go warm up. I’ll order food-- is there anything you want?”

“Takeout from that vegan Asian place over on Seventh?” Frank asks hopefully. “I haven’t eaten there in so damn long.”

“Sounds good. Want your usual?”

Frank loves him. “Please. Also a few extra spring rolls?”

“You’ve got it,” Gerard chuckles. He hands Frank a towel, and they start their trek up the path to their rental. “Do you wanna watch a movie? I brought a couple DVDs.”

“Yeah, sure.” He cranks the handle of the old, squeaky faucet by the steps and uses the lukewarm spray to rinse the sand off his feet. Gerard does the same as Frank attempts to towel off his legs. 

“Perfect. Pick one while I order dinner, okay? I left a stack by the TV.”

Frank nods and goes to shuffle through the movies, the warm, living feeling in his chest swelling slightly. They’re all of his favorites. He grabs one at random and sets it on the coffee table, then follows the sound of Gerard’s voice into the kitchen.

Gerard hangs up after a few moments and smiles at him. “Hey, did you--”

Frank kisses him, trying his best to show Gerard exactly how much he loves him. Gerard responds eagerly, fumbling to set his phone down before digging his fingers into Frank’s hips. 

“What was that for?” Gerard pants as they break apart moments later. 

He can’t speak for a few seconds, the words choking him. “You brought all my favorites.”

Gerard’s gaze softens. “Of course I did.”

Frank swallows hard and kisses him again, slow and heavy. He doesn’t deserve Gerard. He knows he doesn’t.

He cups Frank’s cheek, his fingers stroking gently. “Are you good?”

Again, Frank avoids the question. He takes a deep breath. “When will the food be here?”

“About an hour.” Gerard has definitely noticed Frank’s refusal to answer. “Baby--”

He squeezes Gerard’s hand and leans in to kiss him again, putting every bit of feeling he can muster into it. “Do you wanna?”

The question hangs in the air for a moment before Gerard nods, his eyes warm. “Always. If you’re sure you feel up to it?”

Even though his query is caring, it stings. Frank can’t help but think of the nights - far too many of them - where the most he could do was let Gerard hold his hand. 

Gerard makes a quiet noise, jolting Frank back into the present. He hates the look of concern on his husband’s face. Hates that he put it there.

“I’m sure.”

It’s only a few short steps over the creaking floorboards to reach the bedroom, and even less for Frank’s knees to hit the edge of the old queen mattress. He lands on his back, Gerard’s fingers skating up his sides, rasping over the few bits of sand he hasn’t managed to dislodge. 

“Gerard,” Frank whispers, running a hand through his hair. 

He leans down and kisses him briefly. “C’mon,” he murmurs, prompting Frank to scoot back up the mattress till he can straddle his hips. “Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.”

Frank isn’t sure about beautiful. He feels damp and heavy, nothing like what he’d call beauty. It must show in his eyes, cause Gerard’s shaking his head.

“You are. _So_ beautiful, Frank.” He moves back a bit and presses a series of gentle kisses to Frank’s torso. “Fucking-- just look at yourself.”

He flushes and averts his gaze. Gerard leans in again to kiss his jaw.

“So beautiful,” Gerard repeats. His fingers catch at the hem of Frank’s swim trunks, but he pauses. “You’re really sure?”

“Certain.”

He presses another kiss to Frank’s stomach and tugs the shorts down, helping him kick them off his ankles. 

Frank reaches for Gerard’s waist. “Your turn.”

Gerard grins at him as they work together to remove his still-damp swim trunks. “This seems unnecessarily difficult.”

Frank gives him a tiny smile in return, fingers resting on Gerard’s bare hip. “C’mere.”

Gerard falls forward to kiss him, and they both let out gasps as their dicks slide against each other.

“Fuck--” Frank chokes out, tipping his head back. “Just like that.”

He rolls his hips down against Frank’s, and Frank gasps again. “Yeah--”

“Do you wanna come like this?” Gerard murmurs, his own breathing heavy. 

Frank nods, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. 

Gerard’s hands keep roaming Frank’s body, caressing and stroking and sending waves of goosebumps across his chest. He can hardly breathe.

“Is this okay?” Gerard asks, panting. He continues rocking against Frank, moaning as Frank lifts one leg to wrap around his waist.

“So okay, oh god--”

It’s almost _too_ good, makes him feel too many things at once. The slide of skin on skin growing sweeter and sharper as the minutes pass and Gerard coaxes him closer, the swirls of Gerard’s fingertips sliding over his jaw and neck and collarbones, the scrape of teeth against his ear. 

Frank cries out, and for a moment he’s suspended between the gasping and the weight on his chest, unable to breathe, and his hands seize onto Gerard’s shoulders, but then he’s tipping, tipping, spilling over the edge and his lungs catch onto the air again and he shudders and goes still, the brief surge of breathlessness flowing away and leaving him with a warm, loose sensation in his limbs. 

Gerard ruts against him twice more before stilling as well, a stifled moan echoing through the room. Frank pulls him closer.

“You okay, baby?” Gerard hasn’t come down from his high, and every word is a pant. 

Right now, with sand grating between his side and the sheets, with sweat drying on his back, and with the soft buzz of summer and love brushed over his skin with every absentminded touch, Frank feels more alive than he has in months. His lips curve up into a slow smile. It almost hurts, but in the kindest way possible. “I’m good.”

Gerard’s lips part for a moment before he returns the smile, real and wide and sweet. “Hey. Hey, Frank.”

There are so many words he wants to force from his mouth, so many pent-up feelings that he’ll never be able to spell out. He manages a single, soft noise, pressing his face to the side of Gerard’s neck, feeling his pulse slow and steady against his temple.

“I’ve got you,” Gerard whispers. 

Fingers lift and slide through Frank’s hair, gently catching at several tangles in the windblown strands. 

He wants to say everything, wants to force Gerard to know exactly how much every moment he gets means to him. Wants him to know that he’d give up a million summers for another day of feeling just like this.

“I wish things were different,” Frank murmurs. “I wish I was everything you deserved.”

The hand on Frank’s waist tightens just enough to sting. Gerard unclenches his fingers and strokes over the smarting skin apologetically. 

“Don’t say that, Frankie.” His words are gentle, admonishing. “You know I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Frank knows, he does. He knows that Gerard loves him, knows it in the same way he knows this house. It’s just that he finds it hard to remember, sometimes; it’s always hard to remember what he can’t understand.

“It won’t be like this forever,” Gerard continues. “Dr. Leonhardt changed your prescription again, love. We’ll find the right balance soon. You’ll feel so much better.”

He nods against Gerard’s neck, squeezing his eyes closed. He feels just as safe in the dark. “Yeah.”

Even though Gerard can’t possibly be fooled by the single word, his arms tighten around Frank’s bare waist. “I’ve got you.”

Frank holds on and lets himself believe.

**Author's Note:**

> Work title taken from Vacation Town by The Front Bottoms, the song that inspired me to write this in the first place.
> 
> This was somewhat of a rant fic. I started it a while back when I was going through a rough patch, and picked it up again in a current rough patch. I didn't originally intend to post it, actually, but it meant enough to me when I finished it that I didn't want it to sit in a google doc for the rest of its life. I hope the rest of you might like it as much as I do.


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